The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 2573 Xiao Xiao Down (Fifty-Seven)

Schiller nodded, not too surprised. In fact, he had wondered before why a transnational drug trafficking organization would give the same tattoo to all its members. Isn't this equivalent to using the real-name system to do something bad?
It would have been fine if they were just drug dealers before, but now they obviously want to lurk in a certain city. At this time, this too unique tattoo with a strong Mexican ethnic style is equivalent to an ID card hanging around the agent's neck.

But if this is not what they wanted to get, then it is explainable. They are on the Atlantis and running around Gotham City. It is very likely that they are trying to find a way to solve the tattoo issue.

"What can the curse of the ancestor god do?"

"They won't die immediately, but they will die eventually, and it will be a tragic death." Martin grinned and said, "The way of death is not fixed, but it will definitely be very tragic and no one can escape it."

Schiller nodded. All the members of the Confession Cartel he knew died miserably anyway.

"They were anxious a long time ago, knowing that the key to lifting the curse was in me, so they went crazy looking for me in Guazhou. At that time, I was still young, and there weren't enough people to sacrifice. I didn't have the same powerful power as my mother, so I could only find a way to hide."

"But one time I was caught, and they chased me to my hiding place. I almost died. It was the revolutionary army that saved me."

"To be honest, my mother used to have some connections with the local drug dealer." Martin shrugged and said, "Anyway, the drug dealer kidnapped his enemies, and my mother offered them to the ancestral gods. The drug dealer quietly dealt with his enemies, and my mother gained power."

"But I definitely didn't tell the revolutionaries about this. At that time, I thought they were just using the guise of justice. If they knew what I had done, they would definitely shoot me first."

"You had already made the sacrifice by then, right?"

"Of course, not all members of the Confession Cartel are good fighters. Haven't you already seen the fools among them? We're all going to die anyway, so why not help me gain some strength?"

“What changed you?”

"It's not really a change. In fact, I've always thought so. Maybe it's because I'm different from most of the villagers. I went to the city, studied, and got good grades. If nothing had happened, I might have been able to get into university."

"I always thought that the villagers were stupid. Every village was stupid. The drug dealers only knew how to bully others in their own territory and never knew how to unite."

"They work hard for a year, and most of the money is handed over to the bosses who do nothing. If they unite, some of them have guns, why do they need to pay others?"

"So what the Revolutionary Army does is very much to my liking. I don't care whether they grow food or drugs. Anyway, they let people who don't work not get paid, and they get paid according to how much work they do. I think this is the greatest justice in the world, isn't it?"

When Schiller looked at Martin's bright eyes, he knew that he was a very smart man. He didn't even need any theory to inspire him. He could summarize a simple theory of awakening from the laws of life.

You cannot say that this theory is too simple or imperfect, because those complex theories can be summed up in this simple truth: how can distribution according to work not be communism?
"Plus, they treated me really well." Martin thought for a moment and said, "They said they could help me come to the United States, but they didn't want me to work anymore. If possible, they wanted to help me pay for my studies."

"Then why didn't you read it?"

"To be honest, I'm not used to owing others. Besides, once you're in the United States, you can make money everywhere. There's gold everywhere."

Schiller smiled, looked at him and said, "It is true for you, but the Confession Cartel still found you."

"Yeah, after all, my mother isn't the only witch in Mexico, and the Confession Cartel is quite powerful. They can always find someone who understands."

"I guess they found someone who was in the same profession as my mother and found a way to locate my whereabouts."

"That's why you gave me the crystal ball. It seemed like you wanted the power in the crystal ball to protect me, but in fact, it was just to lure the drug dealers chasing you to me."

"But you were looking for them anyway. This is how I provide you with information. You don't even have to look for them. They come to you on their own. Should I ask for a bonus?"

Schiller found himself appreciating this smart young man more and more. He had a strange vitality and looked more Gotham than the teenagers in Gotham.

"They've been chasing you, what are you going to do?"

"I have sacrificed many people before and after. The ancestor god is very generous. The power he gave me is enough for me to deal with them. Moreover, he is particularly satisfied with this sacrifice. If he can speak English, he will probably praise you as a great artist."

Schiller's smile deepened, and he obviously liked the compliment. He said, "I think you are using me to brag. Although I was responsible for skinning and stitching, you designed the Day of the Dead patterns. I think you should go to the art department."

"That's what I thought." Martin immediately became excited. He said, "The tuition at Gotham University is too expensive. I plan to go to a community college. What do you think of the sculpture department?"

Schiller shook his head. Before Martin could show his disappointment, Schiller said, "Let alone a community college, the art department at Gotham University is actually not that good. Or maybe the United States is a traditional art desert."

"In comparison, there is an art academy in another country that may be more suitable for you, but it depends on whether you are afraid of the cold."

Martin was suddenly stunned. His mind was in a thousand twists and turns. The dart made hundreds of turns but still hit the bull's eye. He slowly asked, "I haven't asked you what your relationship with the Revolutionary Army is..."

"Guess?" Schiller gave a mysterious smile.

Martin didn't have to guess, he could see it from Schiller's face.

He stood up from the sofa, showing a fake smile with his teeth bared, and hurriedly put the mask on the coffee table in front of him and said.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late. It's getting late. How about I..."

With a swish, the intertwined power of black and purple flashed by, and Martin's figure instantly appeared in front of the door, but with a bang, the door closed.

Martin's nose was nearly pinched. He froze, turned back, leaned against the door and said, "Professor, you and I are not the same kind of people. How about we just say goodbye?"

"Oh, who am I?"

"You are not with the revolutionaries... I mean, the Bolsheviks?"

Schiller waved to him, motioning him to come over and sit down. Martin pushed the door but there was no response. He wanted to communicate with the power of the ancestor gods, but the ancestor gods did not respond either.

Not long ago, Martin had just watched the man in front of him peel off an almost entire human skin with extremely skillful techniques and stuff another living person into it.

Martin walked over decisively and sat down.

Schiller took out a business card from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table. He pushed it towards Martin and said, "Let me introduce you again. I am the Director of the 11th Bureau of the KGB, Schiller Rodriguez."

Martin's face wrinkled instantly.

"Hello, Director..."

"I think you can listen to the treatment first." Schiller said: "All your assets in the United States and Mexico will remain intact, but I can introduce you to the Repin Academy of Fine Arts and complete all your studies from undergraduate to doctoral level."

"During this period, you will not have any tasks. You only need to concentrate on your studies. Occasionally, you may need to help your hometown solve some minor problems, but you do not have to leave."

"I can't do this job..." Martin said with a frown, "I'm really not cut out to be an agent, Chief."

"But I've heard people call you a know-it-all."

"That was just a minor incident."

"I don't expect you to do anything big."

Martin's eyes rolled around, and he suddenly remembered, "Oh, by the way, I heard that you people advocate materialism, right? But I have faith, and I have a firm belief in the ancestral gods..."

"Do you know what the eleventh inning is for?"

"Uh, what do you do?"

"The one in charge of all magical affairs in the Soviet Union."

"All the magic…magical affairs in the Soviet Union??!!"

Martin felt his worldview collapse.

"If you read more books, you should understand that so-called materialism is not scientific theory, nor is it nihilism. As long as something exists, it can be studied. What's so strange about that?"

Martin still found it a little hard to accept. The expression on his face changed again and again, and his facial features were squeezed together.

"There are indeed no magicians of Mexican primitive beliefs in the bureau at present, and we don't know much about this aspect, but I guess the ancestor gods are not easy to deal with, right?"

Martin's expression slowly changed. He put away his playful attitude, looked at Schiller carefully and said, "It seems that you are very familiar with this kind of belief."

Schiller nodded.

"Well, everything has a price." Martin said, "The power of the ancestor god is already very strong, and we don't need to sacrifice ourselves, we only need to sacrifice others. But like every curse he casts, all users will die miserably before the age of 38."

"You don't have much time then."

"Tsk, I'm still young." Although Martin said this, he couldn't hide his worry. He said: "My mother thought of many ways to escape this curse, which was also the main reason why she took me away from home, but she couldn't escape it in the end."

"Then I guess you wouldn't mind us studying him."

"But the ancestors are very powerful. You must prove that you are capable..."

Schiller stood up, and Martin watched him open the refrigerator's freezer. Now that the refrigerator was no longer working, freezing and refrigeration were the same, so Schiller put all the ice packs he had frozen previously into the freezer to maintain freshness.

He pulled out a bag of meat.

The crystal ball in Martin's hand suddenly began to shake wildly, and Martin could hardly hold it. He held the crystal ball and pressed it hard, but the crystal ball still flew up.

With a bang, it hit the wall and shattered.

Martin was stunned.

He rushed to where the crystal ball shattered, right next to the refrigerator, and then he watched Schiller take out a hoof.

"Let's have some midnight snack." Schiller said, "What flavor do you like?"

Martin swallowed.

"Midnight snack? It or me?"

Martin asked in his mind, for he had already seen the fragmented shadow of the demon flickering above the hoof.

"Of course it's this one." Schiller looked at the hoof that Elsa had roasted but not eaten during the day and said, "It was a strong little deer when it was alive."

"Strong... indeed, indeed strong."

"What did the ancestors say?"

"He said he had been in poor health since he was a child."

Ancestor God: I won’t bother you anymore. I’m leaving.